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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805318">The Devil's Tattoo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/smug_albatross/pseuds/smug_albatross'>smug_albatross</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Imperial Era, M/M, Making Out, Pillow Talk, Tattoos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:15:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/smug_albatross/pseuds/smug_albatross</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nightbrothers had traditions about tattoos. The clones had some of their own.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Darth Maul/CT-7567 | Rex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Devil's Tattoo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It would be nice if, one day, Rex could have something go the way it's supposed to.</p><p>Just once. <em>Please.</em></p><p>Now, granted, of all the ways this could have gone wrong, this is one of the better ones. But he definitely wasn't expecting the night to include a Sith Lord (even a former one) leaning over him, eyes bright, <em>blocking his view of the door, </em>the <em>shabuir</em> -</p><p>"So tell me," Rex says, pitching his voice to be heard over the music of the seedy club. "Why <em>did</em> you kill my contact?"</p><p>Maul's smile flashes in the darkness. "Why, my dear captain," he murmurs, "your <em>contact</em> was an Imperial assassin. I was merely looking out for your best interest."</p><p>"An Imperial assassin," Rex repeats, putting just enough skepticism into his voice to be insulting. "Really."</p><p>Maul merely smirks, like he knows exactly what Rex is trying to do (and probably does, they've done this dance often enough). "Really," he agrees, in the exact same tone. "Such a shame, really, his information was <em>so</em> terribly promising."</p><p>It hadn't been, not really, but Rex is between assignments at the moment and the contact had dangled some information on an Imperial officer that Rex has had his eye on for a while. Most Imperial officers run the gamut between corrupt and abusive, with a few crossing the line over into monstrous - Rex considers killing them a favor to the galaxy. He's just hoping the Empire ran out of bastards before Rex ran out of energy packs.</p><p>His hopes are not high. "All right, all right," Rex grumbles, pressing a finger over Maul's lips and enjoying the startled look. "Should I be running for my life," he asks, tracing the wishbone shape of Maul's chin tattoo, "or are you going to join me for a drink?"</p><p>"Such an honor," Maul purrs, sliding into the seat next to Rex instead of across from him. "Sharing a drink -" he leans forward, lips brushing against Rex's ear and stealing the ability to think in cohesive sentences "- with <em>Jaig."</em></p><p>The name falls from Maul's lips like a sacrilege. Rex whips his head around to stare at Maul, the urge to punch him welling up inside. It's just a matter of whether the impulse to use his fist or his mouth will win over.</p><p>Predictably, Maul smirks. He's always known how to press Rex's buttons; whenever they do this, Rex always loses.</p><p>It is perhaps the only kind of battle Rex doesn't mind losing.</p><p>They drink. Maul flirts; Rex responds in kind. By the time Rex's glass is empty, Maul isn't even bothering to <em>pretend</em> to look Rex in the eyes anymore.</p><p>"I seem to recall," Maul murmurs against Rex's throat, "that it was quite common for your brothers to wear tattoos." He runs a thumb over Rex's collarbone. "Do you have any of your own? Or are you opposed to the idea?"</p><p>Rex smirks, shifting in the booth so Maul is leaning against his side. "You haven't figured that out yet?"</p><p>Maul chuckles. "I have learned not to underestimate you, my dear captain."</p><p>"And yet." Rex wraps an arm around Maul's waist and pulls him close - <em>closer,</em> they're already very close. "You killed my contact."</p><p>Maul <em>hmm</em>s appreciatively, trailing his fingers across Rex's chest. The shirt Rex is wearing is a little tighter than his usual attire - not enough to restrict movement, but enough to blend in with the crowd. It also (because Rex half-suspected Maul was in the area and isn't above showing himself off) has no sleeves. "I did."</p><p>"Despite knowing damn well that I can take care of myself?" Rex asks, catching Maul's hand. "Don't think you're going to make me forget about that."</p><p>Maul chuckles. "You? Forget? My dear captain, I should think I know you better than that."</p><p>"So?" Rex presses. "Why not let me handle it?"</p><p>There's a long stretch of silence - well, relative silence, the club music is still pounding in the background.</p><p>Maul's nails dig into Rex's chest and he leans forward. "Did you <em>really</em> think," Maul rumbles, teeth scraping along the hollow of Rex's throat and making him forget <em>everything else,</em> "that I would risk anything happen to <em>you?"</em></p><p>That - well. Instead of answering, Rex turns his head to catch Maul's mouth with his own.</p><p>Maul kisses him fiercely, fingernails scratching lightly across Rex's scalp. It's all Rex can do not to get completely swept away as Maul straddles his lap and deepens the kiss. He'd never admit it out loud, but he's <em>missed</em> Maul - missed his wild brand of protectiveness, his voice, his <em>touch, kriff -</em></p><p>"Apartment," he gasps out. "Not far." Rex grins briefly, a pair of synapses managing to fire despite the way Maul is moving against him. "Still wondering about those tattoos?"</p><p>"Alleyway is closer," Maul points out. Rex rolls his eyes and dumps Maul off his lap in response. <em>Alleyway. </em>Please. What is he, a drunken hookup?</p><p>(Well, kind of. But he's a <em>regular</em> drunken hookup, blast it.)</p><p>Maul, being in possession of droid legs and also the Force, lands lightly on his feet, laughing, and pulls Rex to his feet. Rex stumbles a little - he's drunk more than he thought, apparently, but not enough to fog his head. No, that's <em>all</em> Maul's doing.</p><p>The bouncer smirks at them as they leave. Rex doesn't bother getting annoyed (mostly because he's already annoyed at his past self for not picking pants that weren't so tight) and keeps a very gentlemanly arm around Maul's <em>waist </em>all the way back to his crappy apartment that, he realizes belatedly, he hasn't cleaned in a while. He's been a little busy scouting out Imperial patrol routes and wreaking havoc with their supply convoys, but that's still no excuse.</p><p>(Maul does not bother to be gentlemanly. Not that Rex expected him to.)</p><p>It's only a couple of minutes to Rex's front door, but it feels like much longer. The cool night air has whisked away whatever buzz Rex had, leaving behind nothing but vague amusement at Maul's inability to be anything but insufferably and a much more pervasive <em>want.</em></p><p>"Well." Maul is smirking, the <em>bastard,</em> like he hasn't been driving Rex <em>mad</em> the whole walk here. "It's been lovely catching up with you -"</p><p>Rex kisses him, open-mouthed and filthy, desperate for <em>more</em> and <em>stay</em> like a drowning man is desperate for air. Maul's hands fist in Rex's jacket and they stumble inside, panting and needy as Rex digs his fingers into Maul's spine.</p><hr/><p>It ends much later, in a tangle of limbs on Rex's bed, with Maul complaining after smacking his elbow against the wall and Rex laughing too hard to kiss him properly.</p><p>"Oh, shut up," Maul grumbles, rubbing his elbow as Rex continues to laugh like an asshole. "You never did answer my question."</p><p>Rex blinks. "What, about tattoos?" he asks, reclining on one arm. He raises an eyebrow in Maul's direction. "What the kriff were you doing just now, if you weren't looking?"</p><p>"I was otherwise occupied," Maul deadpans perfectly, settling himself against Rex's side, wrapping one leg around Rex's hips. It might be sweet (in Maul's way) if his legs weren't cold. "But I meant my other question. If you were opposed to them."</p><p>"I'm sleeping with you, aren't I?"</p><p>Maul smirks. "Indeed you are, my dear captain. Now," the leg around Rex's hips tightens, "do stop dodging the question."</p><p>Rex bites his lip. He's hardly opposed to a second round, if Maul wants it, but this thread of conversation has his attention and he'd like to finish it. "I'm not opposed," he says truthfully. "I just never felt the need to get any." He snorts a little, old anecdotes rising to the surface. "You know, one of the Coruscant Guard commanders had the most gorgeous back tattoo - a bird, not sure what kind." He glances at Maul. "And then, right below that, he had a Senate tramp stamp."</p><p>Maul chokes. "A Senate -"</p><p>"Tramp stamp, yep." Rex grins. "Fed the gossip mill for a <em>week.</em> Apparently, he had a habit of getting new tattoos every time he got blackout drunk. His final count was twelve."</p><p>"How unfortunate," Maul manages, sounding slightly strangled.</p><p>"For him, maybe," Rex mutters, half to himself. The 501st - especially in the last months of the war, when the bad blood between his boys and the Guard had been at its height - had found it <em>hilarious.</em></p><p>And now he's thinking about things he doesn't want to be thinking about; not here, not with Maul. Rex looks away, trying to push those thoughts back into the box in the back of his mind, the one labeled 'deal with never' and sub-labeled 'drink to forget'. (It never works - the drinking part at least - so he doesn't really try, but the labeling stuck).</p><p>"There's a Nightbrother tradition," Maul says abruptly, perhaps sensing the shift in Rex's mood. "Or there was, once. The Nightsisters practiced it too, though less frequently."</p><p>Rex half-turns back to him.</p><p>Maul shifts, splaying his hand across Rex's chest. "The tradition," he rumbles, "was to mark your loved ones with your tattoos. To show the rest of the clan that they were <em>yours."</em></p><p>
  <em>Yours.</em>
</p><p>Rex doesn't -</p><p><em>Yours</em> pounds in his blood until Rex can't stand it, until he rolls over so Maul is underneath him and kisses this man with everything he has.</p><p>When morning finally comes and Maul slips away, there is a blue and white vambrace on his arm and fresh black ink over Rex's heart.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In my heart, the CG commander with twelve drunken tattoos will always be Fox, but feel free to interpret it as whoever you like. There are at least three others to pick from (probably more, tbh, Coruscant is MASSIVE).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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